The Panic Button
by ghoulina
Summary: RickxVyvyan. Rick takes advantage of a quite morning and mulls a few things over. I admit it's not strictly in character, but I tried :(
1. Chapter 1

**My first the Young Ones fanfic. Quick warning it is slash so if you don't like that sort of thing don't read. Rated M for matue content, m/m and language.**

**I don't own the young ones characters that honour goes to Rik Mayall, Lise Mayer and Ben Elton, I'm merely borrowing them for my own sick amusement. If this get's a decent reception I'll upload the secound half, please let me know what you think, many thanks :) **

* * *

The morning was grey; the sun didn't break the clouds that lay in a thick blanket across the sky smothering the area in a monochrome sheath. Inside the room where sunlight didn't chink in through the blinds and hadn't been the cause of the disturbance in one of the beds occupant's dreams the air sat heavy, each inhale the young man made seemed to take more effort than was natural like the air itself was turning to molasses. The block grey of the bed sheets was only broken by the occasional coffee stain, or splurge of black ink, all where in the same dreary palette though as the outside he held his back to. Slowly he lifted his hands and slid them from beneath his bed sheet smoothing at the sheets spread across his body.

He followed the progress of his own hands as they ran from his chest, down and fitted snugly in the crevice between his own and the other body lain in bed beside him, his fingers spasm slightly as they accidently brushed against the other mans exposed skin. The young man noted that yet again his bed mate had thrown the covers from himself in the night and they now cocooned his own body nearly entirely, not that his bed mate would care when he awoke. Hesitantly, afraid that his light touches would cause the other to stir; he let his fingertips trail along the broad shoulders, and then dip down between defined shoulder blades.

Icy eyes watched with mild amusement as his fingers seemed to take on a mind of their own, mapping the myriad of fresh scratches they themselves had left the night before. He felt the roughness of dried blood on his sensitive finger tips in some areas where his barely there nails had broken the surface of skin and fought the urge to smile. His eyes moved back to where his fingers had started their journey and locked on the juncture where shoulder met neck, something inside him thrilling at the teeth marks standing out almost garishly against alabaster skin, just high enough that he just knew the usual shirts the other wore wouldn't hide the wound.

'_Have fun explaining that to the lads down the pub' _

A huff that could have been a laugh or just a particularly heavy exhale escaped him at that thought; the punk would most likely make him pay for it once he regained all his faculties this morning…A sudden shiver ran through him at the thought of _his_ punk pushing him down, the words he would say, the blows he would deal. Without his permission his mind wandered to the previous evening, to what had led them to be here…

* * *

_The heat of Vyvyan's hand resting on his leg was maddening, how he could just sit so casually while making Rick feel like he wanted to rip the skin from his body to stop the thrumming electricity skimming across his skin he didn't understand. He shot a look to the side which went unnoticed by the punk whose entire attention was seemingly on the television screen and the bowl of god knows what that he had dug from the cupboard and was proceeding to shovel down his gullet as fast as his body would allow. _

_Never moving his eyes or even indicating that he so much as had an inkling as to what he was putting Rick through Vyvyan began to move his hand higher, his leather wrist cuff scraping at his skin through the denim. Sweat began to bead at the nape of Ricks neck as Vyvyans fingers began to knead high upon his thigh near enough to his crotch that he could feel himself beginning to react in a way that would most definitely alert the others if he were to allow the punk to continue. Biting hard on his lip Rick attempted to follow Vyvyans example and loose himself in the programme, however the fingers that where gradually beginning to cover his crotch had other ideas._

_Rick knew what Vyvs game was, he was trying to get a reaction, and he wanted to watch him squirm. Sometimes the anarchist felt like he was nothing more than an ant under a magnifying glass to the medical student a disposable source of entertainment for study, something there when he felt like being cruel just for the fun of it. Rick hated himself for letting Vyvyan push him around like he did, but at the same time he loved it and that just made him hate himself even more._

_Suddenly the sensation changed from kneading to a sudden sharp grip, Rick inhaled sharply, unable to stop the physical jerk his body betraying him, the rickety chair he was perched upon (as usual) creaked and protested the slightly spasmodic movement which had drawn the attention of the male sat at the far end of the couch. Calmly Mike leant forwards, looking around Neil (granted their wasn't a lot to look around and nine times out of ten they tended to just look through the hippy anyway) and past Vyvyans stock form to where he could just see Ricks profile, his jaw was slightly slack and eyes wide. _

"_Alright Rick?" Mike asked quirking one eyebrow he watched as Rick nodded wordlessly, eyes not flicking towards Mike once. This was one of the longest periods of silence Mike had ever known Rick to have, and not that he would let it show but it was ever so slightly disconcerting. _

"_Yeah Rick." Vyvyan chimed in, twisting his head to face Rick, keeping his hand where it rested in his lap, cupping Rick through his jeans, the other buried in the bowl of what he suspected where crisps but wasn't entirely sure that sat between his own spread legs. "You've been awfully quite this evening." He grinned at the sociology student who shot him the most withering glare he could muster in his current predicament._

_Rick gritted his teeth and spat between them; "Shut up you utter bastard." Vyv grinned and twisted his hand sharply in Ricks lap causing the poets eyes to boss and his teeth nearly break the skin of his lower lip as his teeth gnashed down upon it in an effort to muffle the sound trying to escape him._

_Vyvyan settled back within his seat, removing his hand subtly from Ricks lap and proceeding to use both hands to shovel the remnants of the bowl within his lap into his mouth. That had most certainly been a memorable reaction, he mused to himself that he may have to remember it for use in the future._

* * *

The difference was truly stunning Rick often mused to himself in these quite moments with Vyvyan, he was hardly recognizable as the psychotic personality that Rick had grown accustomed to. In sleep his face held no resemblance to the permanent gurn that distorted his features whilst awake (when they first met Rick had wondered if the medical student was in pain such was the intensity. Enquiring had led to his head being smashed through their living room door, he hadn't bothered asking since.) and he really was rather handsome the poet supposed, even if the cheap dye he used on his hair often ended up smeared in streaks across his skin and on the pillows after their nights together.

Hesitantly he let his fingers slide back up the smooth skin and delve into the orange hair that lay flat against the punk's skull, the tri-hawk mutilated beyond recognition into and almost endearing scruff that stuck up in a disarray of orange and (in certain places where the dye had worn away) blonde. His fingers toyed with the strands that curled at the nape of Vyvyans' neck, only lightly for fear of the Punk awaking and calling him on his actions, Vyv wasn't big on Ricks 'moments', and often resorted to beating him out of them if he caught him. Rick smiled, thin lips pulled upwards, only slightly, at the thought that out of any-one he could choose Vyvyan must be the most unlikely person he would ever have thought of himself being with. The smile grew though at the thought that for all the times he drove Vyvyan up the wall, for all the screaming and yelling, all the broken furniture and bruises, they always ended up back together.

It probably wasn't the most healthy relationship going, but they were happy, for the most part anyhow… well…Rick was happier when Vyvyan wasn't kicking his ribs in to be honest but he always made up for it and that was all the anarchist cared about.

"We're like fire and water…" Rick whispered, hushed and quite into the monotone room, letting himself shuffle a little closer to the other body still laying with his back towards him, moving closer to the heat emanating from Vyvyan's bare skin, the smell of sweat and alcohol something he had gotten used to very early on. "We'd be more dangerous separate than we are together…" His fingers caught in a knot near Vyvs ear and the punk grunted, Rick froze afraid he had been rumbled, the punks shoulder muscles tensed before relaxing, his breathes returning to the deep soothing rumble they had been. "I wonder who's going to extinguish who though."

* * *

"_What the ruddy hell did you think you were doing Vyvyan?" Rick hissed from his seat on the edge of his bed, it was one in the morning, the incident in the lounge was still thrumming beneath his skin, the embarrassment and fear seemed to have cemented themselves permanently within his gut. Vyvyan snorted from where he stood at Ricks door, shrugging off his denim jacket, chains rattling noisily within the tense air of the room (tension the Punk was purposely ignoring, he had been working the sociology student up all night and was damned if he was going to be side-tracked by atmosphere) _

"_Just having fun Rick. Why didn't you enjoy it?" Rick flustered, eyes narrowing at Vyvyan, watching his every move as he stalked forwards towards the bed until his knees where bumping against Ricks where he sat rigid upon his filthy sheets. "It felt like you did…" _

"_Oh, shut up Vyvyan!" Rick shoved at his thighs petulantly, he was angry dammit! Angry and humiliated! He's had to sit through Vyvyan tormenting him all evening; apparently crotch grabbing had only been an appetizer, about half an hour after Vyvyan had declared it was too hot and stripped himself of his jacket and dead Kennedys t-shirt, only to slip the denim cut off back over his bare chest. Rick had only been able to sit and stare, feeling slightly like he was being penned into a corner with no hope of escape, especially when Vyv threw his legs over the end of the sofa and into Ricks lap, effectively pinning him into his seat. That, Rick felt, was playing dirty._

"_You were out of line." Rick shoved at Vyvyans' thighs again when the medical student merely swayed with his first pathetic attempt. When the Punk didn't even bother to humour the weedy student with a slight sway Rick kicked his feet wildly and scrambled onto his knees on the bed, trying to gain a little height so he wasn't looking up into the punks soft blue eyes as he let him have a piece of his mind. "What if Mike or Neil had noticed the little game you were playing? Hmm? What then? What would you have said Vyvyan? 'OH sorry lads. I was just playing keep the stiffy with Rick? Didn't think you'd mind me doing it RIGHT UNDER YOUR BLOODY NOSE!'!" _

"_For fucks sake." Vyvyan shoved Ricks shoulder as the anarchist tried to push his face into the Punks, eyes bugging and cheeks flushed with anger as he screamed almost hysterically. Vyvyan watched with an almost detached amusement as Ricks arms flailed at the sudden loss of balance and he slammed backwards into the wall his bed was pressed sideward against, his shoulders and skull making an almost sickening crack sound as they connected with the brick. "Mike was far too interested in those birds with the grass skirts on to notice a nuclear bomb going off in his pants." Rick pressed himself further into the wall as Vyvyan climbed onto the bed with him, the knackered mattress sinking and creaking with the additional weight. "And I think Neil's slipped into some kind of Lentil induced coma, I just left him downstairs on the couch; didn't even wince when I set fire to his flares." Vyvyan nodded as he spoke, convinced that neither housemate would have noticed a thing it he had leapt at Rick then had there whilst downstairs so absorbed within their own little worlds, rick however didn't look so convinced if the pursed lips and stink eye where anything to go by._

_Rolling his eyes Vyvyan gripped at Rick's wrists where they lay limp by the anarchist's hips and pressed them firmly into the mattress, thumbs pressing into the softness of the inside of his wrist, a thrill rising in his chest as Rick gasped, lips swollen from incessant chewing parting, blue eyes reluctantly meeting Vyvyans own as the Punk leant further into Ricks personal space._

"_We. Were. Fine." Anticipation thrummed in the veins of both males, this was what they had been leading up to all evening, the teasing, the snipes, everything always led to this. Vyvyans grip on his wrists tightened, past pain, past control to the point where Rick could feel the tips of his fingers beginning to tingle from lack of blood flow. "Ok girlie?" Vyvyans tone was laden with patronisation, his lips twisted into a grim sneer as he cut his baby blues at Rick, before he jolted backwards from shock as a wad of spit landed on his cheek._

_Rick hadn't even thought about it, so riled up from Vyvyans taunting all evening, the hated 'pet name' had apparently been the last straw. He blinked as he watched the spit drip down Vyvyans cheek, shocked. He was for it now._

_Vyvyan released one of Rick's wrists, raising his hand he swiped at the spit, fighting the urge to simply lay into the trembling boy before him, knowing that the more calmly he approached everything the more unnerved the poet would become. As he raised his hand he felt Rick flinch away and into the wall, cowering under Vyvyans shadow that seemed to almost engulf him, but chose to ignore it. It wasn't as if the reaction wasn't well earnt .Vyvyan eyed the spit on his hand, disgusting really, but not exactly the worst thing he'd had hit his face he reasoned before gripping Ricks jaw as tightly as he could, fingers digging tightly into the flesh and mottling the pale skin even paler as the blood drained from the pressure. _

"_That…is a very nasty habit." Ricks eyes where wide as saucers by this point, locked onto Vyvs as if in some extreme staring contest, not even daring to blink as the Punks eyes iced over. "Perhaps I should help you __**break**__ it?" Ricks breaths where shallow and rushed as Vyv forced his jaw shut, grinding his teeth together and effectively silencing his retort that instead escaped as a muffled, grunting sound. _

_Rick slammed his now free hand against Vyvyans chest in an attempt to push the Punk back, hand fisted and pressing roughly into the space between his ribs, but Vyvyan didn't budge, didn't even show a sign of having felt the blow as he forced Ricks head back against the wall, tipping his jaw so he was staring up at the ceiling of his room and into the face of the mould that was slowly colonising his ceiling from where the hole in the roof was letting moisture into the attic. Rick tried to focus on the misshapen blob as his eyes watered and breathing became progressively more difficult to manage as Vyvyans entire hand closed around his throat, desperately his hand scrambled at Vyvs chest, his still pinned hand twisted within Vyvyans grasp and began to claw at whatever flesh he could reach, unable to kick his legs out from where his weight rested on them._

_Vyvan watched Rick as he tightens his grip around his throat, not too much, but enough to make breathing a little more difficult for the poet. Vyvyan had learnt how much of this Rick could take before the lack of oxygen became too much and the anarchist simply fainted, the dull stinging of Ricks chewed nails scrabbling at his skin was mildly irritating, kind of like when S.P.G tried to clamber up his arm to sit on his shoulder. He watched as Ricks eyes watered and the anarchist blinked determinedly to keep the tears from falling as breathes rasped from his lungs, noisy in the almost eerie silence of the room, a sound which could have been anything from 'Vyv' to 'cunt-face' gurgled up in Rick's throat, his Adams apple bobbing madly behind his flesh drawing Vyvs eyes to his neck. Pale, unmarked skin stretched on from below Vyvyans hand, down behind that grey button up, luring him in almost as if he were being hypnotised without him noticing he found himself nipping at the skin below where his hand was restricting Ricks air flow, a sudden un-ignorable desire to mark Ricks skin, to disfigure the unblemished porcelain that stretched out, so fragile and vulnerable before him overtook him and without warning he sunk his teeth into the flesh._

_The undistinguishable mix of sudden sharp pain and pleasure erupted within Rick's sense like a firework flaring within the night sky, the hand scrabbling at Vyvs wrist stopped and the fingers enclosed within themselves in a tight fist as the fist that had been digging at his ribs stilled and released, pressed palm flat against the hot skin, trying to gain purchase of anything solid and real, trying to anchor him as he felt that sharp points of the Punks teeth nipping at his skin before being soothed by his tongue lapping at the sore areas in a strangely tender action before his teeth returned and the process repeated itself, drawing gasped whimpers from the anarchist as he squirmed beneath the medical student for a completely different reason now._

* * *

Rick debated with himself a moment before leaning forwards and pressing his lips against the punks shoulder blade tenderly, one hand slipping from his lovers hair to rest against the pillow above their heads, the other sliding down to Vyvyans shoulder, fingers running along the dark mottled skin nestled in the crook of the punks neck, feeling along the indents of his own teeth gingerly, still not quite ready for Vyvyan to wake up and force an end to what he felt was a rare moment of exploration and…expression. He dragged his lips to the top of Vyvyans spine, kissing softly along the bones as low as he could reach, not daring to move the chain which lay still wrapped around the young man's neck, the coolness of the metal startling as he accidently brushed it with his cheek when compared to the heat radiating from the Punks skin.

He would never get away with being this soppy while the Punk was awake, Vyvyan would think he'd starved his brain of oxygen for too long and broken him or something similar Rick thought to himself, there was something about expressing emotion besides anger and lust through physicality that the Punk seemed to bulk at. At first Rick had thought it was simply because Vyvyan had never really received anything over than that, however after trying to cuddle, or hold his hand in bed the first few times and ending up with a bloody nose he'd given up trying to express himself and the way he felt to Vyvyan…at least while he was conscious. He figured it just wasn't in Vyvyan Bastards make-up to show physical affection or feel anything more than lust and Rick could deal with that, after all the fact that Vyvyan even came to him at all meant a lot. Rick knew in his own way the Punk cared for him.

"I love you…" Ricks lips ghosted over the skin at the nape of the Punks neck, his breath rustling the fine hair rooted there that had lost their dye and stood out from the orange mass. "You bastard." The smile in his voice audible to his own ears as he kissed the warm skin once more before letting his eye shut once more, his hand still lazily running small patterns over the Punks skin until he finally slipped back into sleeps waiting arms and his hand slipped from the Punks shoulder into the small space between his chest and the Punks back.

Vyvyan waited until the breaths fanning across his back evened out before rolling carefully over onto his back, avoiding crushing Ricks hand and waking him, and getting an earful from the anarchist for disrupting his notoriously fitful sleep. He watched the anarchist sleep, his eyes moving fitfully behind the lids as REM took hold, brown hair splayed against the grotty grey (once white Vyvyan had been assured) pillowcase, pigtails sticking rigidly from beneath the mop, random strands sticking from between the braids where they had worked free. Unable to stop himself Vyvyan tugged lightly at one, smiling to himself as it caused Rick to snuffle slightly in his sleep before he moved closer to Vyvyan, face buried against his side before he knew it, eyelashes ticking at his skin as his eyes fluttered fully in the throes of dreams now.

The Punk sighed, not even really for his own benefit, just because it felt like the appropriate action to take in such a situation. He'd been awake for the majority of the time Rick had, he just couldn't be assed before to alert the anarchist to his consciousness, but…part of him wished he hadn't been so idle now. It was unfair he realised (with some shock to himself) he felt as if he had deceived the anarchist, it had been nice he realised, nice to simply _feel_. But it was scary as well…which he supposed was nice as well in its own way, to know he could still feel scared sometimes…But he felt like he had tricked the last words from the poet. He'd never said it before, never even hinted…but Vyvyan supposed he'd never been looking for it before….not really. Never looked too far into _why_ Rick let him keep coming back, why Rick kept fighting back, why he let the cycle continue. Not until now anyway

Vyvyan let another sigh past his lips before pursing them so tightly his top lip touched the ring that pierced his nose. Vyvyan could acknowledge to himself that, emotions wise, he was hardly…extroverted. He had never believed in touchy feely (another reason why he liked Rick not knowing he was awake, if Rick knew that he'd think that meant he was ok with it all the time) communication of emotion, never really experienced it before though he supposed. Definitely never did from his Mother, and he was never with a foster family long enough to ever really see them as anything other than a stopping point on his way along a long and pointless track. They all hit the panic button, usually within the three week period. Every-one hit the panic button eventually…

Vyvyan's eyes were drawn down towards where the anarchist was tucked against his side, he'd let him stay there for now, until he woke. Then he'd push him out of bed, act as if he'd just awoken himself. Yell at him for cuddling, yell at him for the bruise tingling at the crook of his neck (where he could still feel the ghost of Rick's fingertips tracing nonsensical patterns over the skin) and return to the utter bastard he now knew Rick was in love with…

Every-one hit the panic button in the enventually.


	2. Chapter 2

**_disclaimer: I own nothing, I don't own any of the characters mentioned in this peice nor the actual Young One's programme itself, that honour goes to Lise Mayer, Rik Mayall and Ben Elton. This is done purely for entertainment purposes and I make no profit from it whatsoever._**

**_So this turned out a lot longer than I had originally intened...I may split it into two at a later date. Anyway most of this was written between eleven and three at night so please excuse any mistakes and misspellings. Also just incase any-one is uncomfortable with reading sex scenes skip the first four or so paragraphs, you can pick everything up fine from there.  
_**

**_Now thats out the way, please read, reveiw and enjoy!_**

* * *

_Vyvyan watched in awe as Ricks spine arched high off the mattress he was sprawled across beneath the Punk, Vyvyan seemed to find himself in permanent awe of the younger man at times like these, almost sobbingly thankful that he was here and oh so fucking real. Vyvyan could feel his hair was plastered flat against his forehead from sweat but couldn't give two damns at that precise moment as the fire burning within his gut was fuelled and grew with Ricks staccato gasps, his hips rocking almost franticly back against Vyv's, head thrown back and exposing the bruise marred stretch of skin, all Vyvs own handiwork. _

"_Don't stop." Rick pulled himself upwards into Vyvyans arms from where he laid, legs wrapped tight around the punks waist as if trying to pull him closer, deeper, faster; both boys' minds spinning at the cacophony of sensations exploding within their bodies and minds almost simultaneously._

_Ricks nails scrabbled at the medical students back, chewed nails biting at the skin in desperation as his eyes screwed shut, mouth gaping as his climax approached and overwhelmed him as Vyvyan watched from above, his own building and coiling tight within his gut like a spring being wound tighter and tighter until…_

"_AH!" His head fell limp and heavy against Rick's shoulder, mouth hanging open and dragging air into his abused lungs, hips now moving of their own accord, completely independent from his minds input in pure pursuit of nirvana. "Holy shit…." Somewhere at the edge of his fused mind he could feel Rick's hands stroking up his spine, fingers dipping along the bumps of vertebrae before skating along his shoulder blades and down his arms where his forearms boxed Ricks head between them and where his head was buried against the anarchists overheated skin, lips now mouthing almost absentmindedly along that pale stretch._

_Neither moved, content in their own ways to stay as they were, Ricks head tipped to the side, his own hair in disarray and came to face the orange mass that crowned the top of the Punks head a soft, almost dopey smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he noticed slight streaks of orange running down along Vyvyans neck and smeared across his back. Like war paint Rick thought. _

_He loved this moment, the moment after when Vyvyan let every pretence fall away and simply lay with him, it was these moments when he truly loved the Punk, as he lay across Ricks body both of them trying to regain breath. They weren't simply Rick or Vyvyan in these moments the anarchist felt, it was more like they were Rick and Vyvyan in the truer sense. Not just physically but mentally and emotionally for the brief time they were on the same page, which was an extremely rare thing for the young couple to experience. _

_Rick allowed one hand to leave its resting place on Vyvyans arm and come up to stroke through the garish tangle of Vyvyans hair, picking his way through the strands still held solid by the extreme strength moose Vyvyan used daily and gently untangling the odd knot he came across, normally Vyvyan would threaten to break his fingers if he tried this, however the Punk was still breathless and aching and didn't have the energy to even verbalise the threat at that precise moment. This was another reason Rick loved these moments, he could get away with much more than he would normally, he could almost pretend in these moments that they were an ordinary couple…something he wasn't sure he truly desired or not…maybe he would miss Vyvyans psychosis in the end? Who knew?_

"_I love you…" He kept the words quite, barely a movement of his lips as the whisper escaped them, he knew not to expect a reply, had accepted it since the first time he whispered those words to Vyv's sleeping form. The anarchist allowed his eyes to slip shut, the smile slipping from his lip and a small frown creasing his brow momentarily as Vyvyan shifted, pulling out and allowing Rick to slip his legs from around his waist before rolling off the poets body and laying on his back beside him, pressed close against his side in the narrow single bunk._

_Vyvyan watched until Ricks brow smoothed and his breathe evened out signalling he was asleep, just from the corner of his eye, facing upwards towards the ceiling and the mould that had nearly reached one of the poets stupid cliff Richard posters. The punk figured he would do something about it before it actually touched the silly thing…perhaps Vyvyan could try out that new flamethrower he had conned Neil into mail ordering for him. That would dry the area out he figured, and mould surely wouldn't grow back if it'd been incinerated, right? Besides if it didn't work he could always just burn the poster off the wall and have a good laugh at the ugly old bastard as he melted…Rick might have a slight objection to that though, he'd be upset… Vyvyan started at that thought. Since when did he give a shit? Since when did it matter if his entertainment upset pRick? _

_Vyvyan turned his head and stared down at the young man lying beside him, what the hell was he doing to him? What was he making him? __**Love**__? Love was never a word in Vyvyan Bastards vocabulary who did Rick think he was? Falling in love with __**him**__? Making him become considerate! Vyvyan felt his gut twisting like his intestines where being tugged and knotted within his abdomen, he wasn't sure he liked this…_

* * *

The tattered calendar assured him he hadn't worked it out wrong, seven and a half months. Vyvyan run his hand over his stars embed within his forehead, the cool metal soothing over his palm as he puzzled, seven and a half months since this…_thing_ with the girlie poofter started and he hadn't hit the panic button yet. Vyv scratched at his eyebrow distractedly, cool blue eyes running over the torn calendar that hung haphazardly above his rather battered chest of drawers, it was usually hidden behind S.P.G's cage but when Vyys numbers had come out as they had he'd pushed the cage from the top of the drawer set (much to the hamsters disgust), at first from frustration, but once spying the calendar figured it would be useful in double checking (about 300 times) his mathematics.

It just didn't compute within the Punks mind, no-one ever stuck it out this long, every-one abandoned ship at the nearest harbour and ran for their fucking lives after a matter of weeks being stuck in close quarters with him, why the hell should the so called anarchist be any exception to this tried and tested rule? What made Rick so special? (After all Vyv figured, the only reason S.P.G had stuck with him so long was coz he lived in a fucking cage.)

Vyvyan fell unceremoniously back onto his mattress, the rusted bed frame creaking ominously beneath him as S.P.G swore at him, the thick Glaswegian dialect comforting to the Punk after so long. He felt the weight of his padlock and chain against his chest, something he had never removed, not even with Rick. A loud, drawn out sigh escaped his lips as he folded his arms behind his head. It hadn't been an awful seven and a bit month he figured, certain aspects where unexpected…

"_I love you…."_

Yeah, that had been a shock; Rick falling in love with him had never even entered his mind as even a remote possibility, this had started purely by chance and had continued as such he supposed. He'd never said it back. He'd tried once, after Rick had fallen asleep, he thought that maybe that would make it easier…

"_I-I" the words clogged within his throat as it closed stubbornly around the statement not allowing anything more than a slight heave past his lips that floundered uselessly around the syllables spasmodically…_

_Vyv continued trying for a while until he eventually gave up, figuring Rick wouldn't appreciate being woken up by Vyvyan vomiting all over the bed._

He wasn't even sure if he did love the anarchist, there was a level of mutual co-dependency there he would admit. Without Rick Vyvyan was lost, when Rick had left for his parents funeral he'd been gone a whole weekend. Vyvyan had never realised just how much of his time he spent with the annoying little twerp until those three days where dumped upon him; no-one to argue with, no-one who'd fight back. Neil simply sat while Vyvyan smacked him with a chair then the stupid bloody hippie passed out! He couldn't even have a fight properly stupid pacifist and Vyv wasn't about to pick a fight with Michael, that just wasn't cricket as Mike would say. Vyvyan was willing to wager those had been the most boring three days of his entire life waiting for the little prick to return home so he could beat the snot out of the poofter for leaving him without any entertainment. Except he didn't;

* * *

_The sound of the key in the door was possibly the sweetest sound Vyvyan had heard all weekend, a grotesque grin stretched across his thin lips as the realization made anticipation fill his veins; Rick was home._

_Vyvyan bounded from where he had been poised on the staircase, the sharpest, pointiest most lethal knife he owned gripped tight within his hand as the front door swung open upon that familiar scrawny silhouette…except Rick didn't look himself. It startled Vyvyan so much that he paused his pre-meditated attack as he drew up to the anarchist, knife still raised, hand frozen reaching out, fingers clawed mid grab as he took in the poets dishevelled appearance and sallow skin; the bags beneath Ricks eyes where more prominent than Vyv could ever remember seeing them, his skin had a sickly yellow tone undercutting it. He looked awful. Genuinely awful._

_Vyv blinked his wide eyes at the poet as the lanky youth simply stood and stared back at the Punk, icy eyes observing through a sheen of unshed tears, red circling around his lower lid and bleeding slightly into the white of his eyes as if this was the first time he'd stopped crying since he'd left the share house…which Vyvyan considered may well be possible._

"_Get on with it then." Even his voice sounded listless and monotone like he couldn't give a shit. To be fair to Rick though, he really couldn't. He'd known this was waiting for him from the moment he walked out the door Friday evening, however the fact he'd spent the majority of the weekend alone in his parents' house crying over every stupid little memory his childhood home threw up in his face meant he really was having trouble giving a damn about Vyvyan and his stupid violent streak._

_Vyvyan however didn't move. Simply blinked and stared at Rick mouth agape. Something was very wrong with the poet; he wasn't even trying to get out of Vyvyans way! He hadn't even flinched or anything…_

_After a moment of the two of them standing and staring at one another Rick seemed to realise he had wrong footed the Punks attack and nothing was going to happen. With a sigh and despondent eye roll Rick pushed past Vyvyan, the ruck sack that he had taken with him for the weekend slung over his shoulder, as the anarchist came into the light of the hallway and away from the gloom of the night Vyvyan noticed even his clothing looked less…well Rick was never the cleanest or neatest student but he had always taken a certain amount of pride within his appearance…a pride which seemed to have gone completely missing. He didn't have his usual jacket on, the sleeve of which Vyv saw poking from the zip of the rucksack. The grey button up was wrinkled and stained (more so than usual), the sleeves shoved up to his elbows and the top two button undone Vyv cast his eyes down and noted Rick hadn't changed from his suit trousers, mud was scuffed along the knees and splattered against the bottom hemline, his red shoes where missing replaced by a pair of white tennis shoes much to Vyvyans surprise. _

"_They broke." Vyvyan looked up sharply at being caught, eyes wider still as he watched Rick throw the rucksack against the wall beside the wardrobe knocking the phone off the hook as he did so. Neither moved to replace the handset. "Buckles broke." Rick explained unnecessarily, Vyvyan knew the buckles where broken. The buckles had been broken for weeks; Rick had simply refused to accept that his precious shoes had finally given up the ghost. _

_Rick watched without interest as the phone handset swung from the chord, knocking against the wardrobe siding, swinging back and forth like some kind of comical pendulum…except he didn't find it funny. _

_Vyvyan shifted uncomfortably as Rick stared past him at the swinging phone behind him, boots scuffing against the worn wooden boards. This was extremely unnerving for him. He had never met this side of the anarchist before, not really, sure Rick had his sulks and such like but this was like he was taking Neil on for most depressed house member, and not that Vyvyan would ever admit it…but it was making him concerned. After all if Rick topped himself he had longer than just three days of boredom to deal with!_

"_A-Are you Och…" Ricks eyes glanced towards Vyv as he struggled with the words, his face contorting and gurning as he tried to force out the inquiry, Rick quirked one eyebrow as vyvyans eyes practically bossed whilst spitting out the troublesome words. "Are. You. OKAY?!" Vyvyan grinned to himself at his success before dropping the grin quickly at the look of bemusement on Rick's face, his eyes unreadable as they stared Vyvyan down._

"_Am I ok?" Rick took a small step towards Vyvyan, one hand coming out and pushing the inner door shut behind him. If asked at that moment Rick could never in a million years have described the emotions running riot through him as 'ok', but he knew Vyvyan didn't really give a shit, there was some kind of trap lying in wait here, some cruel punishment was still to come Rick was sure and he'd be damned if he was going to give the punk more ammunition to fire at him, he wasn't born yesterday. "I'm fine. Why?" Rick didn't stay to wait for a reply simply moved past the punk into the main room of the house, stopping in the unfinished doorway and simply staring into the room. It was exactly the same as when he'd left, the sofa was still red and sat in front of the knackered television set that sat in the bay window, the shelves beside him still as rickety and laden with a culmination of crap and the kitchen was still filthy and empty. He didn't really understand why it felt so unfair, it felt like something here should be different, why did life for the guys have to remain exactly as it was while his own felt like it was spiralling beyond his control…_

_Vyvyan hesitated before shuffling over to where Rick stood in place in the archway, eyes glancing with disgust around the room they were facing into, Vyvyan didn't notice this though, he was thinking about the poet's rather blatant lie. He wasn't ok, and he didn't want to talk about it; fair enough. Except it wasn't. Vyvyan bit down hard on his tongue to stop himself asking the poet again, knowing he would get the same response, what did he care if the stupid poof was upset? So what his parents were dead boohoo, everyone feel sorry for the wimpy git never mind the fact that he himself had never really even had parents, sure he'd had his mother (who barely even constituted as a parent on account of the fact she was hardly present in his life) and a string of men who'd been in and out of those doors like bees in a hive. Who the hell gave a shit when he hadn't been ok? No one. So why should he give a damn now? _

_Vyvyan shoved his hands as deep into his jeans pockets as the denim would allow, index finger playing with a hole that was developing in his left pocket…maybe if he got it big enough he could wire it up to that bit of c4 he'd been keeping in his sock for the last few days…kind of a tug, lob and kaboom! Yeah…that would be cool, it would look like he could produce explosives from thin air if he got the timing right._

_Rick saw a grin spread across Vyvyan's face from the corner of his eye an almost dopey glaze descending upon his eyes, Rick rolled his eyes. Explosives had to be. Nothing gave Vyvyan Bastard that kind of contented dreamy glow like something that could cause indescribable damage within a matter of seconds, much like the man himself really._

"_Where's Neil?" Rick asked, stepping into the empty kitchen he couldn't help noting one of the chairs had been repaired recently, rather shoddily, the back had been super glued and nailed back onto the seat, iron nine inch nails stuck out hazardously from the back and the juncture of the seat. Rick made a note to avoid that seat in the future; it looked like it could be more lethal than the accursed rickety chair. Glancing around once more he noticed the absence of the other (sometimes he often suspected omnipresent) member of the household, no random sentences being strung together, no declaration of coolness…what on earth was going on. "And Mike, where are they?" _

"_Mike's at a girls." Vyvyan supplied, throwing himself over the back of the sofa, deciding walking around would be far too boring. He'd spent three days being bored; he needn't add more tedium upon himself in unneeded he figured. He landed a bit rougher than he'd anticipated however and had to cling onto the sofa back to stop himself slipping from the seat onto the floor, once settled he hooked his chin over the back and watched as Rick moved about the kitchen, finger tips trailing along he chairs and countertops. "And I think Neil's…" Vyvyan trailed off, Neil was visiting his parents…"Staying over a friends for a few nights." Rick snorted at that, upper lip curling and revealing his teeth in a gruesome sneer._

"_Neil at a friend's? Are you sure Vyvyan? I didn't think the hippie had any friends." Normally this statement alone would have convinced Vyv that Rick was going to be fine and was back to his usual bastard self, but the delivery was all wrong, his voice still lacked that edge Vyvyan was used to hearing and was still dreary and un-emphatic sounding. He was not ok. Vyvyan, for once was glad he'd spared the anarchist's feelings, despite the stir of disgust this caused within himself._

_Vyv shifted where he was sprawled, one heavy booted foot thudding down onto the floor from where it had been precariously perched beside the other atop the arm of the couch, and the sound seemed so loud in the sudden quite. Vyv wasn't sure he liked this…it was too quiet; Rick was too…un-Rick. He wasn't even spitting his usual venom about the hippie, well he was trying and Vyvyan supposed that was a good sign, but he was still a way off._

"_So I'm stuck here with you am I?" Rick asked, shooting the question over his shoulder from where he was leaning over one of the countertops, spindly fingers gripping against the cheap surface, Vyvyan fought the urge to stomp over there and put his head through the cabinet he was in front of, it would be so easy…and it might snap the miserable sod out of this ridiculous funk he'd sunk himself into Vyv theorised…no, behave. Ricks' not right and there's no-one else who's going to give a shit. Vyvyan nodded in reply to the question and Rick sighed letting his head drop forwards to rest momentarily against the door of the cabinet Vyvyan had previously been daydreaming about putting his head through. "I'm going to bed." _

"_Oh. Ok." Vyvyan sat up as Rick slumped out of the room, the usual slope of his shoulder seemed somewhat more pronounced than usual and his feet barely left the floor with each step. "Rick!" Vyvyan called out, not letting his mind think over the emotions that where driving at him to be the shoulder Rick needed tonight, not letting himself linger over the twist that happened in his gut every time the anarchist cast his eyes over towards him and they looked…lost…"If-"He cut off, unsure of what exactly he was trying to offer here, never having received it himself he wasn't sure of what he should be giving. "Just…if you need…I mean. Talking. It helps some people, y'know?" Rick turned from his place at the foot of the stairs, eyebrow furrowed and lips set into a grim line._

"_Piss off Vyvyan."_

* * *

No, Vyvyan didn't _know_ if he was in love with Rick, nor did he think he'd ever truly know having never experienced anything even close to love up until this point in his life he figured love could come at him with a crowbar (not that it seemed likely to, I mean that's not a particularly loving thing to do is it?) and he still wouldn't recognize it most likely. Vyvyan tipped his head to the side facing the stupid little doodle Rick had scrawled across his wall one night three months after everything had changed, Vyvyan hadn't noticed it until nearly a week had gone by, Rick had to point it out to him in Vyvyan's defence though he didn't usually spend hours staring at his walls of a night, especially not if there was something better in the bed to occupy his time with.

The writing was messy and sloping across the plaster at an angle;

_Who would have thought?_

_When all seemed fraught _

_With those who we fought_

_A sought touch could heal_

_And teach once more to feel_

It was simple and brief but it was definitely some of Rick's better work, if he was honest it saddened Vyv a little to think he would have to leave it behind someday. The ball point that Rick had scratched it out with had eaten slightly into the plaster, he told Vyvyan he'd had trouble getting it to actually work on the plaster, hence forth why it seemed at parts the poem was carved into the wall rather than written.

Running his fingers around the outside area Vyvyan tried not to think about the emotions that drove Rick to write what under normal circumstance the punk would think of as sentimental drivel across his wall, even more so he tried not to think about the emotions that made him want to keep the poem and re-read it every opportunity he got.

Maybe it was for the best he didn't know if he loved the anarchist, he mused, sucking in his cheeks still running his eyes over the scribbled poem, everything worked well the way it was didn't it? They could plod along like this for however long it took for Rick to finally click that Vyvyan Bastard was defective and slap his hand down on the panic button like so many others had before and leave Vyv to stew in his own juices once more…that was how it had always gone.

"Maybe I don't want it to end like that this time…" Vyvyan whispered to the plaster coating his wall.

"What was that?" Vyvyan ignored S.P.G, as per usual and continued tracing his index fingers over the wording carved into his wall almost religiously. "Oh, fine. Ignore me then, bloody poofter, look what he's done to ya!" The hamster grumbled to himself, settling down in the pile of hay spread across his cage floor, booting a number of steel bolts out the way so he could lay.

Vyvyans other hand came up from where it had rested across his stomach and enclosed the heavy padlock that lay against his sternum, the chain around his neck shifting ever so slightly at the motion. No, Vyvyan bastard wasn't sure if he knew what love felt like, he didn't know if he was in love with the anarchist but he knew he didn't want to find out by losing him.

* * *

_Vyvyan sat stunned on the sofa as Ricks footsteps retreated up the stairs and the tell-tale slam of a door told him he'd retreated to his room._

"_This is why I'm not nice." Vyvyan muttered and fell backwards onto the sofa once more, arms crossed almost petulantly across his chest, padlock digging hard into his arm, not quite painful yet but on the way. "Bastard." _

_Vyv lay there for a while in silence listening to the sounds of the house, the mice playing poker by the sink betting with bread crumbs, the hermit beneath the stairs camping down for the night and upstairs Rick…kicking something if the repetitive thumps reverberating along the ceiling where anything to go by. Vyvyan rolled his eyes at Ricks temper tantrum, he'd tried being nice to the anarchist, god knows why but he'd tried and it'd been thrown back in his face, ungrateful bastard. He should have known better, the spotty twerp wasn't going to let anyone help him, he wanted to suffer let him, let him write one of his weedy poems about the pain and turmoil going on in his heart and head or some other poofy bullshit. Vyvyan sneered to the air, as another thud shook the ceiling. This was proof nicety never worked….maybe that was where he'd gone wrong…_

_Coming to his decision Vyvyan heaved himself from the sofa where his body had sunk into the pitiful cushions that covered the framework and clomped up the stairs after the anarchist, if Rick didn't want nice Vyv he could work with that certainly. _

_Vyvyan skipped the top steps, hopping up them effortlessly and drawing up the Ricks door, he pressed his ear against the wood, listening for sound on the other side where the rooms' occupant had grown suspiciously quiet. Pressing his entire body against the wood was, logically pointless as Vyvyan well knew (he may have appeared a half-wit but there was still a brain in there, a rather intelligent, if lager soaked one at that) but it didn't stop him doing so, chain clinking slightly as they came into contact with the door, his boots where pressed tight against the door, ear pressed a close as his hair would allow._

_Shuffling._

_Whispering._

_No not whispering, whimpering. Vyvyan felt something painful in his chest as he recognized that sound, his mind shooting him back to a grungy flat, unwashed bed clothes and a possibly broken wrist; '__**OH GROW UP VYVYAN! ANY-ONE WOULD THINK YOU WHERE A LITTLE GIRL NOT A BOY!' **__Ah darling Mummy. Always so compassionate. Perhaps it was the memory of his scrawny five year old self sobbing into the blankets while his Mother worked (nicked their dinner from the local store) and her then beau downing as many cans of cheap beer as he could before passing out that made him turn the door handle, or maybe it was something else. Something he never would examine too closely (something that felt like it was lifting his hand and wrapping it firmly around the handle, pressure against his skin as if saying he wasn't moving until he opened that door), but whatever it was he turned the handle and clicked the door open, booting it the rest of the way with one of his doc Martine's the crash of the door slamming into the wall behind causing a satisfied shiver to zip along his spine. Until he saw the room's occupant._

_Rick was curled in on himself at the far end of the bed, knees drawn high up under his chin, he'd discarded the hideous tennis shoes (thank god, Vyvyan made a mental note to burn then at a later date) and his toes poked out of the holes In his worn socks, his hands where gripping his calves against his chest in what looked like it should be a painful grip but no emotion showed on his face, not pain, not shock at Vyvyans abrupt entrance, he was just blank in the most unsettling sense the punk had ever experienced. He watched as Rick's fingers clawed in the fabric of his trousers then released and repeated, teeth knowing at his lower lip with such fervour Vyvyan knew it was only a matter of time before the skin was broken._

"_I tried being nice." His voice conveyed a confidence that wasn't truly within. "STOP BEING A SISSY!" Vyvyan booted the bed with as much strength as he could muster as watched with a slither of amusement as the anarchist atop the bed wobbled, like a cherry sat atop a jelly on an uneven table, and waited._

"_Stop." The request was barely audible, as Rick mumbled it into his legs, turning his head into his knees, burying his eyes against the muddied material. Vyvyan pretended not have heard it and kicked the framework once more, a vicious growl escaping his curled lips. He was going to break Rick out of this if it killed one of them._

"_SNAP OUT OF IT YOU NANCY!" His voice was near bellowing point and he could feel it in his throat, not that he didn't shout a lot it was just over the last three days he guessed it hadn't got as much use as it would usually. _

"_Please, Vyvyan…" The tone was almost beseeching but Vyvyan paid no mind, still not the reaction he wanted._

"_STOP BEING SUCH A NANCY!" Vyvyan leant across the bed, squaring up to Ricks bowed head, his hands now gripping at his trouser legs more fervently. "Mommy's boy." It was a low blow dealt in desperation, the punk felt an alien emotion tug his gut down as soon as the words left his mouth, unbeknownst to him at the time it was guilt pulling at him and making his mouth dry. _

_Vyvyan heard Rick's breath stutter in the heavy silence that followed, until the mop of brown poking above Ricks bony knees shifted, his head lifting, eyes like thunder in an ice storm locking onto Vyvyan darkened orbs._

"_You Bastard." Ricks voice was harsh with the whisper, punctuated by the sound of skin colliding with skin as his hand shot from his leg and struck Vyvyan across the cheek leaving a near perfect imprint of his hand spanning across his cheek bone and down his jawline. "My parents have just died you insensitive __**arse**__!" Vyvyan scoffed and Rick pressed his hands into the mattress to fight the near insatiable urge to slap the punk again. Vyvyan meanwhile was silently cheering._

"_Oh boo fucking hoo." He spat, booted foot coming down once more against the bed in an attempt to distract himself from the stinging burn on one side of his face, for Rick that had been a better slap than Vyvyan had anticipated. "My parents are dead, boo hoo, Mommy's apron strings have finally been cut by death and I can't cope!" He mocked, clambering atop the bed in front of Rick, much to the anarchist's disgust._

"_Stop it Vyvyan!" Rick was prepared to beg, he would do anything just to get the punk away from him and stop him twisting what felt like a large shard of glass inside his chest. "please-"_

"_Oh shut up you great girl!" _

"_YOU DON'T GET IT DO YOU?" Rick snapped, his hands slapping at Vyvyans shoulders as he pulled himself to his knees, tears threatening to fall as they burnt at the corners of his eyes but he'd be damned if he shed them in front of Vyvyan. _

_Vyvyan stayed silent, even putting up with the shove to his shoulders, Rick needed this he told himself, once again ignoring that nagging voice in the back of his head questioning why he gave a fuck in the first place. Instead he listened;_

"_You never had parents, not really, that old trollop who gave birth to you never gave a damn but my mother did and now she's dead Six feet under with Daddy! It's not fucking fair that's what wrong with me! It's not fair why do they have to die? Why my parents, what gives whatever higher being there may be the right to swoop down and snuff out their light? Why not yours! Why do they have to die and a worthless piece of shit like you get to live?" Rick had tears streaming down both cheeks by this point, having given up fighting them back. Vyvyan ignored the rather sharp barb thrown his way and instead shifted into a more comfortable position, glad at least that Rick was letting off some of the emotions that had been building inside before he had simply detonated like an over cooked pressure cooker. _

"_I never had proper parents, no." Vyvyan spoke in what constituted as his soft voice. _

_Rick continued as if he hadn't heard the punk, which considering the state he was in was quite possible. "I'm alone…" The main burst had clearly left his system, much to the punks' relief as his voice was considerably weaker now, his eyes stayed locked on Vyvyans as he spoke, that lost look back and replacing the anger. Vyvyan blinked slightly thrown by Rick's swings of emotion, but he figured it was a natural part of the grieving process…_

"_Don't be daft…" Vyvyan mumbled, his hands toying with the stained duvet between himself and Rick, what looked like ink splashed across the cotton on blots. "Just coz you ain't got no parents no more doesn't mean you're alone. I mean look at me, I'm here aren't I?" Rick blinked as the penny dropped; Vyvyan had provoked him on purpose. The Bastard. "And Mike n Neil, ok so we're not perfect, but we're something. I mean, you lot are all I've got-"_

"_What about you're other friends?" Rick asked, his own fingers now toying with the fabric not far from Vyvyans own, his head inclined downwards, his brain still having trouble computing that Vyvyan may have actually done something kind; to him! Of all people, it boggled his mind to think of it so he stopped._

"_Those wankers?" Vyv asked, what sounded like a smile in his voice as he spoke. "There all right for a fight and a drink but…there not people you can speak to."_

"_And I am?" Rick asked, head still down, a part of him still awaiting the blow that he was sure Vyvyan was building up to delivering. Vyvyan deliberated a second before humming an affirmation._

"_Yeah, 'spose. I mean when you're not acting like a complete tosser you're not that bad really." Vyvyan definitely caught the flicker of a smile that fluttered briefly over Ricks lips and definitely didn't feel the flutter it caused in his gut at the thought it was him who'd made him break his blank mask._

"_Thanks." _

"_S'okay." Vyvyan shrugged, he could feel awkwardness beginning to build inside his body, where the hell was he supposed to go from here? Was there even anywhere to go? Not for the first time Vyvyan cursed the fact he'd had little to no experience with situations of this kind._

"_You…you uhm. You provoked me on purpose didn't you?" Rick asked, glancing up to face the punk, the light from the hallway shining into the dim room and backlighting the man sat before him, in this light Rick could almost mistake him for being handsome…_

_Vyvyan nodded, a grim grin spreading across his face as he shifted where he sat, chains clinking together once more as he did so._

"_Bastard." Rick whispered, despite the smile pulling at his lips._

"_Well, you weren't gonna talk to me willingly where you?" Vyv reasoned, he'd tried nice and that failed so he switched to what he knew best and it worked! If it's not broke, don't fix it. "And it was kinda fun." _

"_Oh, that's lovely Vyvyan. I'm glad my grief has supplied you with amusement." Rick spat, their fingers still toying with the duvet beside one another, neither noticing until their fingers brushed one another causing both boys arms to lock, their hands suddenly snapped in towards their own laps as if they were on a piece of overextended elastic. The blush that burned at Ricks cheeks was hot enough for Vyvyan to have cooked an egg over, not that his own was much better, but his hid his own behind a disgusted snarl._

"_Just 'cos I didn't want you moping round the house till you topped yourself and made me Mike and Neil pay more rent don't mean you can get all fruity with me!" _

"_For God's sake Vyvyan!" Rick squawked, the prominence of his lisp belaying how flustered he was becoming. "It was a ruddy accident! We were both playing with the duvet, besides it was your fingers that brushed mine!"_

"_So what are you saying?" Vyv leant forwards; the light behind him illuminated Ricks petrified face for a moment, his sallow skin and defined cheek bones, moist plump parted lips all caught Vyvyans attention in a way they hadn't before (at least not while he was awake anyhow) and he had to swallow heavily before his regained his focus and continued; "I want to get all poofy with you? Hah! The only thing I'm going near your trouser area for is to kick you in the knackers!" _

_Rick tried to scoot back as Vyvyan leant close to his face, too close, he could feel the punks breath fanning across his face, this was possibly the closest any human had ever come to kissing him…Ricks eyes widened as a number of dreams flashed before his eyes, the dreams he was always far too ashamed to even think about come day break, the nights where he wasn't sure it whether it had been male or female lips, small delicate hands or strong firm palms against his skin. Oh for the love of Cliff, please move back…He could practically feel his lips shaking. Was Vyvyan moving closer or was that his imagination?_

"_Just the idea…"Vyvyans voice was breathless but still held an edge neither he nor Rick recognised to it. "Of being trouser with you, makes my skin crawl…" Whether it was in a good way or bad way was up for any-ones guess. Rick turned his head away slightly, breaking eye contact with the punk as he screwed them shut and lips finally slammed hard against his jaw, missing his mouth, Rick could feel Vyvyans nose ring did hard into his cheek and knew he should push the other boy away, scream at him, he could hold this over the punks head for ever and ever, but no sound would come. His lips where parted, heavy breaths escaping them, his hands came up to push Vyvyan back but instead gripped tight at the denim over jacket as his teeth began to nibble almost viciously at the skin, just veering on the edge of breaking the surface but not quite there. _

_Vyvyan meanwhile still had his eyes open and a squirming in his gut that even he couldn't tell himself was nausea at his position, it was far too like something he'd only ever felt while looking at the dirty mags he'd pinched from the offy and during some rather vivid and excitable dreams. He was waiting, waiting for the shove, for the scream for the torrent of abuse he well deserved, but none came. Almost experimentally he began to nip at Ricks skin, enjoying the taste far more than he'd ever thought possible, while here might as well get a bit of experience he figured, he froze as Ricks fingers fumbled at his jacket, tugging at the chains before finding the jacket edge and gripping hold tight, his breath heavy and rasping in Vyvyans ear. Oh god when did it turn into this? _

_Vyvyan tried to pull back as Rick turned, their lips brushed almost accidentally, drawing a sound Vyvyan had never heard come from another human being before from deep within Ricks throat, both paused a moment, lips lingering against each other's, neither really knowing what to do, until Vyvyan applied a little more pressure, softly moving his lips against the anarchists own, surprised at how soft they felt against his own rough chapped ones. Vyvyan had no idea how it had come to this, no idea what the fuck he was doing and no idea what he had started, just that this was the best he had felt for a long time._

* * *

Vyvyan paced nervously outside Ricks door, it was well past midnight and all the other occupants of the house where abed and sleeping peacefully while a nervous twitch started flexing at his right eye. Stopping he pushed his face into his hands and went over the words he didn't know how to verbalise once more, the great ball of emotion that seemed to sit heavy in his chest as he thought of the anarchist behind the door, how do people do this? He wondered.

Resuming his pacing he dragged his heavy booted feet roughly across the worn wood he was traversing, a more detached part of his mind wondering at the fact he hadn't worn a little track way outside the poets door by now the amount of times he'd paced it, cowardice was not something Vyvyan liked to associate himself with, however on this occasion it appeared he had little choice. He was scared. Exhaling heavy he turned the small object in his hand, the cool metal heated by the warmth of his skin, would Rick understand? Would he know?

"C'mon you get a grip you girl." He pinched his denim clad thigh roughly for good measure and strode up to the door, pushing it open easily (the lock had broken the day before, S.P.G had done something involving a carrot, some high explosives and a hair pin).

"Vyvyan! What on earth…." Rick was sat up in bed, a torch clasped in one clammy hand, one of his Marxism books laid out on his lap, Vyvyan paused a moment in the doorway, blessing the heat wave that had made the days so uncomfortable as he took in Ricks sleepwear, a pair of baggy rolled up joggers and his discarded vest top thrown in a heap at the bottom of the bed. "What are you doing?" Rick asked, closing his book and setting the torch to one side, the heat had kept him awake and he was sure he'd heard movement outside his door at one point, and after convincing himself it was burglars or the bogey man had been unable to rest.

Vyvyan stared at the boy sitting cross legged atop his bedside covers and felt the small piece of metal in his hand, the nerves slipping away surprisingly easy. Swinging the door closed behind him the torch light shone a direct beam against his chest illuminating his features, the extra light allowing him to see Rick a little clearer, not that he really needed to, he was pretty sure he had every part of the anarchists body committed to memory by this point…however the visual was rather nice.

"I wanted to give you something."

"At Midnight?" Rick asked incredulously, a soft smile playing along his lips despite the puzzlement in his mind.

"Yeah." Vyv nodded, scuffed his boots and finally admitted. "I was going to give it to you earlier…but I…got distracted." Well it was kinda the truth, fear was pretty distracting after all.

Moving as quietly as he could across the room Vyvyan tried to keep eye contact with Rick, wanting the poet to understand how much it took for the punk to do this. Needing him to understand…

"Here." Vyvyan held his hand out as he squatted beside the bed, palm upturned, the small gift settled in the centre of his hand, the torch light reflecting off the shiny metal of a key, a length of string strung through the hole at the top big enough to slip over some-one's head. Rick stared down at it, confused, he took it between his index and thumb and held it up closer to his eyes so as to see it clearer, Vyvyan had never given him anything before…the key must mean something…

Vyvyan watched the anarchist examine the key, handling it gently like it was a precious gem before glancing back up towards Vyvyan.

"It's the key to my padlock…." Vyvyan spoke, his voice that soft gruff tone Rick had grown to love, Rick blinked and for a horrible moment Vyvyan thought he didn't understand and that same fear returned clawing its way into his skin and making him scratch self-consciously at the star studs emblazoned across his forehead, before the grin broke out across Ricks face and his eyes lit up, his expression looked rather like what Vyvyan would imagine it would be if some-one had told him Thatcher had handed in her resignation. Ricks arms suddenly flung around his neck, his lips crushing against Vyvyans with a ferociousness the punk didn't know the scrawny youth possessed, the key clutched tight in his fist.

"Thank you." Ricks breath fanned over Vyvyans lips and cheeks, the smile still strong as Vyvyan took the key softly from his hand and slipped it over his head, gently tucking it beneath his braids and smoothing the string along his chest until his hands came to rest over where the key sat over his sternum.

"It's yours," Vyvyan murmured, keeping as close to Rick as he could manage. "I…well, y'know." Rick smiled, he knew.

"I understand." The words seemed to be what Vyvyan wanted to hear as the punk's disposition changed almost immediately from the nearly unfamiliar hesitance back to the almost surreal brashness he usually possessed.

"Good!" Rick startled as Vyvyan pushed him back in the bed before clambering in beside him, boots and all, the mattress protesting at the extra weight as per usual. Rick was sure one day it would just give up and collapse beneath them, until that day…

Vyvyan tugged Rick close against him, enjoying the feel of the poets weight against him and the heat radiating off his skin (despite the temperature) the smell of sweat and sex still clung to his skin and the sheets beneath them. Snuffling slightly Rick curled against Vyvyan, fingers running over the jagged edge of the key, a soft smile still playing around the corners of his lips as he closed his eyes feeling much safer with his punk beside him.

"I love you…" He whispered, lips brushing over the skin of Vyvyans ribs as he spoke. Vyvyan grinned before resting his hand over where Rick was cradling the key and gently squeezing the anarchists hand around the small metal object.

Vyvyan bastard didn't know if he loved Rick, he didn't know if he would ever know, but he did know he didn't ever want his anarchist to hit the panic button.


End file.
